Open Camp Territory ShadowClan prove yourself and rise ☾.⭒ — sparring

[Fleapaw]

{$title} surprise! you won a free helping of controlled violence!

-

Fleapaw sat near the entrance. Her tail lashed, a restless flick that swished through the mud. She already finished all her chores for the day. No one gave her anything else to do and it was too early to train with Froststorm.

Despite how busy she usually was, Flea wished she were on patrol or out training. Yeah, she could go patrol by herself but that wasn't much fun anymore. Froststorm said she should practice some of the stuff they went over with her clanmates but tough making that happen. That seemed like a job for her LIVING mentor. But she hadn't talked to Possumgrin in a while and didn't plan to. Not that he ever cared to train her to begin with.

Her claws unsheathed and raked bored lines into the dirt. She halfheartedly watched for signs of life, head lolling until movement caught her eye. Revived from the brink of a boredom-inflicted death, she scrambled to her paws. Before her victim clanmate can get far, she blocks their path with a lopsided grin. "H-hey there! Uhhh..." She doesn't take the time to register who she's talking to before blurting her piece. "We're gonna have a spar. Me an you." Trap set just like Pa taught. Never ask with an open-ended question if you want something. Also, better to get it out quick before they escape.

Feel free to decline whoever posts second! Also free for all. Spectate, join in the fun, whatever!

Higher and higher you chase it

FLEAPAW

9 MOONS
SHE/HER
- Undersized cinnamon solid with folded ears. She's thin but stubby with very messy fur.
"SPEECH" - crimson | 'THOUGHTS/EMPHASIS' - crimson

Fleapaw values family the most with survival at a close second. In conversations, she is blunt, fun-loving, and clever. She is guided by her desires which often leads her astray. Despite her abrasive personality, she cares deeply for those she loves and will do anything to protect them. Due to her experiences, Fleapaw is corrupt and has minimalistic, if any, morals. She does not care for the warrior code and its restraints. Neither does she believe in StarClan. Growing up in a kitten mill, being separated from her mother, and ending up on the streets have deeply affected her view of the world.

Its deep in your bones go and take it

 

[Stoatpaw Stoatpaw]

——————————————— Together, we'll make our way home ✦

She was minding her own business, as she often did, trotting through the camp. Stoatpaw found herself well-rested for once, looking for something to do in camp. She had already eaten her fill, and with the sun still rather high in the sky, she could bask in the warmth for a short while, perhaps?

The apprentice milled the camp, but she noticed the glimmer of a cinnamon pelt lounging there too. Her eyes lit up, Fleapaw was in camp for once and not off doing one of the about a hundred things it seemed she had to do all the time. She picked up to a trot, maw opening to share the excitement that they could spend time together for once, only to be interrupted as Fleapaw seemed to have another suggestion.

Her expression faltered a little, Stoatpaw glanced past her shoulder and pressed a paw to her chest, "Me?" Stoatpaw wouldn't have expected a spar challenge from Fleapaw; any other apprentice seemed to be on her chopping block, but that didn't stop the glitter in her eyes. She and Flea had been training for a couple of moons now, it would be fun to see the progress they had both made. "Sure, Flea, we can spar!"

There was a grin on her face, tail swishing. It wasn't her plan to relax, but hey, what harm would there be? Surely Sablestar would be proud to see her trying her fighting skills. Though she would give Flea the chance to strike first, it was her challenge after all!

——— While you were sleeping,

Everything changed at once. ———

• 
  Stoatpaw
  ✦—Shadowclan apprentice | 8 Moons
  ✦—She/Her
  ✦—"SPEECH", 'THOUGHTS', ATTACK, PAWSPEAK
  ✦—A slender white cat with faint lilac markings and blue eyes.
  #96d5f1/#50BBF0
  
  ⤷ Written by Phoenix ​

 

[Fleapaw]

-

When a white pelt presses into view, she rears back. Fleapaw curses herself for not springing the trap AFTER she knows just who she was asking. The shock on her face is evident, but it gives way to hesitation.

She doesn't want to fight Stoatpaw! What if things get heated and she accidentally hurts her? That would be like what happened to Tickpaw all over again! It's not too late to take it back… Yeah, she can just make up an excuse. Tell Stoatpaw that she was meaning to ask someone else… or something…

What surprises her more is that her friend is all too quick to accept the challenge. She even seems excited. Well shit. How the hell was she supposed to let her off now? Not when that smile of hers is so hard say no to…

Flepaw straightens up and forces some enthusiasm to match. "Yeah, cool! Come on then." She led Stoatpaw further into camp until they'd reached a secluded corner with enough space. "Here's good..." Dread sunk into her bones, not because she was afraid of losing, but because Flea knew she couldn't go easy on her friend.

Half-assing it wasn't how a warrior should act, and maybe it was a good opportunity too.

Stoatpaw lucked out getting their leader as her mentor. As unfair as that still felt, Fleapaw knew she'd gotten lucky too. Who else could say they had an ancient ShadowClan warrior as their mentor?

She gets ready, grounding her paws and doing a double-check to make sure her claws are sheathed. "I k-know we're friends but—" Without wasting another second, she charges head-on. "I ain't gonna go easy on you!" But before she reaches the distance, Fleapaw faints left and strikes the white apprentice with a hard blow from the side.

Fleapaw: 30/30 HP
- Undersized
- Rolls a 1d15

Rolled a 1d15 → 15

Higher and higher you chase it

FLEAPAW

9 MOONS
SHE/HER
- Undersized cinnamon solid with folded ears. She's thin but stubby with very messy fur.
"SPEECH" - crimson | 'THOUGHTS/EMPHASIS' - crimson

Fleapaw values family the most with survival at a close second. In conversations, she is blunt, fun-loving, and clever. She is guided by her desires which often leads her astray. Despite her abrasive personality, she cares deeply for those she loves and will do anything to protect them. Due to her experiences, Fleapaw is corrupt and has minimalistic, if any, morals. She does not care for the warrior code and its restraints. Neither does she believe in StarClan. Growing up in a kitten mill, being separated from her mother, and ending up on the streets have deeply affected her view of the world.

Its deep in your bones go and take it

 

[Stoatpaw Stoatpaw]

——————————————— Together, we'll make our way home ✦

There was a moment of hesitation from Flea, a frown began to tug at Stoatpaw's mouth, it didn't seem very like her to want to back out of something. There was a flicker of suspicion within Stoatpaw at that thought. 'Don't you go babying me either...'

Thought, far more like the cat she knew, Fleapaw stood up straight and agreed. To which Stoatpaw shot back a grin, she hadn't had a chance to spar with any of her fellow apprentices, so she was just as excited as she was nervous. Especially as Flea led the pair to a corner of the camp where they could spar with little interruption.

Her tail whipped about as she pawed at the ground. She knew she was at a disadvantage really only training at night, but she had to adapt regardless. If she didn't, that's just how she would end up in a ton of trouble in a real fight. She nodded, taking another quick glance around to make sure there wasn't anyone trying to spoil their fight. "This seems good, tell me when you're rea-"

Stoatpaw's first mistake was taking her eyes off Fleapaw. Her lack of hearing meant the smaller apprentice darted forward and closed the distance, and it was only the blur of cinnamon that even alerted her to the spar having started. In that blink of an eye, and as fast as she tried to react, Flea struck her side hard. The ivory cat let out a wheeze of a breath, surprised by the quick attack from her friend, and the sheer strength.

She wasn't ignorant to how poor of a mentor Possumgrin was, so how had Flea learned this?.. Stoat couldn't think about that now, instead pivoting on her back paw and trying in vain to lunge and pin Flea to the ground.

Her second mistake was overestimating Fleapaw's size. With such different schedules, Stoatpaw's mind hadn't quite comprehended how far behind her friend was in the terms of growth. So as she aimed higher than she needed to. Still trying to catch her breath after being struck while unaware, she instead knocked Fleapaw to the side, barging her with her shoulder and putting a little more space between the two so she could catch her breath for a moment.

Her chest heaved a little, looking to her friend with a toothy grin. "My mistake looking away." Stoatpaw's tail flicked, staring down the smaller apprentice as her heart thudded in her chest; she wasn't about to go down that easily.

——— While you were sleeping,

Everything changed at once. ———

• Stoatpaw: 30/45 HP
  - Rolls a 1d15
  - Rolls advantage at night
  
  Rolled a 1d15 → 2
• 
  Stoatpaw
  ✦—Shadowclan apprentice | 8 Moons
  ✦—She/Her
  ✦—"SPEECH", 'THOUGHTS', ATTACK, PAWSPEAK
  ✦—A slender white cat with faint lilac markings and blue eyes.
  #96d5f1/#50BBF0
  
  ⤷ Written by Phoenix ​

 

[Fleapaw]

-

A bird fluttered against her ribcage, bone against wing. Fleapaw had to hold her tongue to keep from asking if Stoatpaw was okay—eyes welling with concern. The sound that came out of her friend made her chest clench. It wasn't easy to hurt her, not even a spar between friends.

That was something she would just have to get over because there was no stopping now. Going easy on Stoatpaw would've been an insult not only to her friend but to herself. Fleapaw loved her, but she'd be lying to say it didn't frustrate her a little, knowin' Stoat was given so many things that Fleapaw had to fight for tooth and claw for. She had Pa that loved her, and a mentor who wanted her to succeed. She was pretty and smart, and everyone loved her. It was wrong to be jealous of Stoatpaw, but shit she really was...

The only way to end it now was for one of them to bow out, and to hell if she was doing that. Even with how hard she got hit, Stoatpaw managed to push back. Fleapaw retreated, clipping her cheek against the other apprentice's shoulder in the process. Once out of reach, she flashed her friend with a smirk, tail flicking sharply. "Yup, so you better keep an eye on me now!" The ruddy she-cat dove in once more, nipping at Stoat's flank with her teeth.

Fleapaw: 28/30 HP
- Undersized
- Rolls a 1d15

Rolled a 1d15 → 4

Higher and higher you chase it

FLEAPAW

9 MOONS
SHE/HER
- Undersized cinnamon solid with folded ears. She's thin but stubby with very messy fur.
"SPEECH" - crimson | 'THOUGHTS/EMPHASIS' - crimson

Fleapaw values family the most with survival at a close second. In conversations, she is blunt, fun-loving, and clever. She is guided by her desires which often leads her astray. Despite her abrasive personality, she cares deeply for those she loves and will do anything to protect them. Due to her experiences, Fleapaw is corrupt and has minimalistic, if any, morals. She does not care for the warrior code and its restraints. Neither does she believe in StarClan. Growing up in a kitten mill, being separated from her mother, and ending up on the streets have deeply affected her view of the world.

Its deep in your bones go and take it

 

[Stoatpaw Stoatpaw]

——————————————— Together, we'll make our way home ✦

She knew her friend well, she could see something stirring behind the cinnamon cat's eyes. There weren't so many cats in the clan who could read Flea like a book, but Stoat was one of the few. How her eyes shifted, how she seemed to sink back into her shoulders.

The pain from the impact left a strain of doubt, but it didn't deter her, and Stoatpaw was glad for that. For once, there was a cat who didn't look at her like some frail little thing. It's something she always appreciated from Flea. Though it's why every hesitation. Every grimace or ounce of doubt. It drove a pit in her stomach. Flea was meant to treat her as an equal. They were equals. So every last glance at her like Stoatpaw might fall apart with the slightest wind, it fueled her.

Stoatpaw didn't know the suffering Fleapaw did; she was aware of it. She admired her friend for fighting tooth and nail for all she had. But it didn't mean Stoat wasn't going to lay down and let the other win without a damn good fight. A sentiment Flea shared clearly as she darted forward, teeth catching her flank. The taller apprentice winced; it wasn't a dangerous bite, but a sting to her pelt that would get irritating fast if she left Flea there. She couldn't deny the slightest chuckle with that irony, which gave her an idea to try her plan again.

With Flea so close, having decided to bring teeth into the equation, she turned and snapped jaws around the flesh of Fleapaw shoulder, using her weight to drag Fleapaw to the side and attempt to throw off her balance.

She watched her friend, eyes slits as she finally adjusted to the light, she wouldn't let the glare of the sun throw her off, not now. "Is that all you've got?" Stoat smirked. She wasn't the sort to goad; she thought it might just cause more issues in a fight, but she wasn't fighting someone who wanted her dead. Instead, this had grown to a curiosity about what Fleapaw knew, what she had learned. How Flea had learned it would be a later question, but this had become a game to Stoat, wanting to see what her friend had learned in all their hours separated.

——— While you were sleeping,

Everything changed at once. ———

• Stoatpaw: 26/45 HP
  - Rolls a 1d15
  - Rolls advantage at night
  
  Rolled a 1d15 → 7
• 
  Stoatpaw
  ✦—Shadowclan apprentice | 8 Moons
  ✦—She/Her
  ✦—"SPEECH", 'THOUGHTS', ATTACK, PAWSPEAK
  ✦—A slender white cat with faint lilac markings and blue eyes.
  #96d5f1/#50BBF0
  
  ⤷ Written by Phoenix ​

 

[Fleapaw]

-

Her jaw clenched as teeth latched onto her shoulder. The bite didn't hurt as much as the blow to her ego for Stoatpaw to go and push her around like that.

While she's not that much larger than Fleapaw yet, there was a subtle difference in height and weight, and she felt it. Didn't take much to push her around with her size, but that's exactly what Froststorm had been preparing her for. Too many times, someone larger was able to fold her like a piece of paper. Every time, she could do nothing but crumple to their strength. The difference now was that there was something she could do about it.

Fleapaw's face hardened with focus, the playful taunt only adding fuel to her desire to win. If Stoatpaw wanted her down so badly, Flea would give her just that. Thorny teeth firmly latch onto a white scruff. Then, rather than waste energy trying to wrestle with her to hold ground, she folds with the weight and drags Stoatpaw with her. Twisting as they fall to try and keep the momentum going, so she can flip the white apprentice onto her back.

Fleapaw: 21/30 HP
- Undersized
- Rolls a 1d15

Rolled a 1d15 → 14

Higher and higher you chase it

FLEAPAW

9 MOONS
SHE/HER
- Undersized cinnamon solid with folded ears. She's thin but stubby with very messy fur.
"SPEECH" - crimson | 'THOUGHTS/EMPHASIS' - crimson

Fleapaw values family the most with survival at a close second. In conversations, she is blunt, fun-loving, and clever. She is guided by her desires which often leads her astray. Despite her abrasive personality, she cares deeply for those she loves and will do anything to protect them. Due to her experiences, Fleapaw is corrupt and has minimalistic, if any, morals. She does not care for the warrior code and its restraints. Neither does she believe in StarClan. Growing up in a kitten mill, being separated from her mother, and ending up on the streets have deeply affected her view of the world.

Its deep in your bones go and take it

 

[Stoatpaw Stoatpaw]

——————————————— Together, we'll make our way home ✦

Stoat tried to keep her training in mind as they sparred, but maybe being faux cocky wasn't the play. While she was rather proud of the hit she got on Flea, she didn't expect the sharp pair of teeth to dig into her own scruff. The white apprentice had to steel herself not to yelp in pain from the teeth in her flesh. At least it felt like it, she didn't know if he friend had drawn blood, but that was an issue for later.

Though Stoat couldn't stifle the whine of pain being slammed on her back. The slightest metallic tang in her mouth made her wince; she had caught her tongue being thrown off, and she needed to keep aware when her maw was open to avoid that. It would do nothing but distract her. With a shaky breath, heart racing with adrenaline, she tried in vain to kick Flea off of her, but only missed her flank with a back paw with unknowingly unsheathed paws.

Stoat was trying desperately not to show the panic that had begun to course through her. She was well matched with her friend, but she had barely managed to land a hit on the other. Was Possumgrin a better mentor than she knew? Maybe Jadethorn's training had already kicked in? Or maybe Stoat... No, she couldn't let that thought settle as she tried again and managed to shove Flea off of her, it had little to no impact on the other, but she was able to stand on her paws again.

Had she always been this shaky when they started? She shook her head and tried to settle her breath. This was just a spar, a friendly spar, it was okay. Flea wouldn't really hurt her. Her mouth parted for a moment, trying to speak, but she promptly shut it again, the bitter taste of blood making her mouth water, especially as she braced herself, realising Fleapaw was already moving again.

——— While you were sleeping,

Everything changed at once. ———

• Stoatpaw: 12/45 HP
  - Rolls a 1d15
  - Rolls advantage at night
  
  Rolled a 1d15 → 2
• 
  Stoatpaw
  ✦—Shadowclan apprentice | 8 Moons
  ✦—She/Her
  ✦—"SPEECH", 'THOUGHTS', ATTACK, PAWSPEAK
  ✦—A slender white cat with faint lilac markings and blue eyes.
  #96d5f1/#50BBF0
  
  ⤷ Written by Phoenix ​

 

[Fleapaw]

-

Fleapaw hated that she even asked to spar. There was a flicker of pride when the defensive move Froststorm had shown her went off without a hitch. It was almost too easy using that same weight that gave her friend the advantage before against her. For a second Fleapaw couldn't wait to tell Froststorm what she did, but that pride quickly soured into guilt. An uneasy sloshing in her stomach, familiar in all the worst ways.

Blood pounded in her ears as she stood over her friend, chest heaving, muscles tense with uncertainty. That spark of determination burned still. She wanted to win, to prove that she'd grown despite the odds, but that was soon clouded with confusion. What was she supposed to do now? If this were a real fight, the answer was obvious—the throat—eyes—stomach. Soft places, vulnerable, easy to tear. But this wasn't a real fight, it was a spar, and Stoatpaw wasn't her enemy.

Stoatpaw was her best friend.

I would never hurt her.

Then again, she'd said that about Tick once too...

White paws shoved her off, and she had to give up the ground she gained. An opportunity missed if it were against a real enemy. Hesitation might've cost her everything, but here, it was okay. Still, their spar wasn't over yet.

A blur of ruddy fur surged forward. Fleapaw threw herself at Stoatpaw, paws wrapping tightly around her neck as she dragged the other apprentice into a forceful tackle. Fleapaw didn't mean to put much behind it, but maybe she was stronger than she thought...

Fleapaw: 19/30 HP
- Undersized
- Rolls a 1d15

Rolled a 1d15 → 14

Higher and higher you chase it

FLEAPAW

9 MOONS
SHE/HER
- Undersized cinnamon solid with folded ears. She's thin but stubby with very messy fur.
"SPEECH" - crimson | 'THOUGHTS/EMPHASIS' - crimson

Fleapaw values family the most with survival at a close second. In conversations, she is blunt, fun-loving, and clever. She is guided by her desires which often leads her astray. Despite her abrasive personality, she cares deeply for those she loves and will do anything to protect them. Due to her experiences, Fleapaw is corrupt and has minimalistic, if any, morals. She does not care for the warrior code and its restraints. Neither does she believe in StarClan. Growing up in a kitten mill, being separated from her mother, and ending up on the streets have deeply affected her view of the world.

Its deep in your bones go and take it

 

[Stoatpaw Stoatpaw]

——————————————— Together, we'll make our way home ✦

She was right to have braced herself, Stoatpaw didn't even try and fight back; otherwise, she might have ended out worse. Before the moment of impact, Stoatpaw squeezed her eyes shut and squeaked out "Flea wait-"

That didn't stop the force of her friend wrapping a blur of paws around her throat. In that moment, she just froze. It was a suffocating feeling, it wasn't as if Flea was putting a ton of pressure. But for a moment. The briefest moment, there was fear. She didn't know why. She knew Flea wouldn't want to hurt her. She agreed to the spar. But also... Flea had asked to fight in the first place.

Dread and doubt crept in. It only made her shaking worse as the two impacted the floor again, hard. This time, there was no attempt to stifle yelp of the pain of the full force of the other, dragging her to the ground as she landed on her shoulder, collapsing in a heap. She was just glad she hadn't knocked her head, since the pain shooting up her side was enough to bring tears stinging to her eyes.

"Flea-" She managed to wheeze, a thin rivulet of blood from biting her tongue dripped from her lips mixed with the saliva of trying to dull the foul taste. Stoat tried to push Flea off, attempting to stand, but her attempt was feeble as she could only collapse again under the weight of Flea still clinging to her and the dull ache from her shoulder.

Instead, Stoat lay there, shaking. Seemingly resigned. There was something unreadable behind the blue eyes that seemed to avoid Flea's. But she wasn't scared. No. She wasn't angry or hurt- Well. Maybe a little physically. But she would live.

Rather, she was frustrated with herself. How miserably she had failed. She tried so hard to fight, how much she strived to make Sablestar proud. Stoat would always be proud of Flea, especially for this fight. But there was a mortifying shame that washed over Stoat as she tried desperately to blink away tears. How would she ever prove she wasn't something to look down on if she couldn't even defend herself?

——— While you were sleeping,

Everything changed at once. ———

• Stoatpaw: 2/45 HP
  - Rolls a 1d15
  - Rolls advantage at night
  
  Rolled a 1d15 (defense)→ 4
• 
  Stoatpaw
  ✦—Shadowclan apprentice | 8 Moons
  ✦—She/Her
  ✦—"SPEECH", 'THOUGHTS', ATTACK, PAWSPEAK
  ✦—A slender white cat with faint lilac markings and blue eyes.
  #96d5f1/#50BBF0
  
  ⤷ Written by Phoenix ​

 

[Coalstrike Coalstrike]

I'LL SHOW NO MERCY, I'LL SHOW NO REMORSE.

——————————​

Coalstrike had watched the sparring match between Stoatpaw and Fleapaw with measured interest, his sharp golden gaze tracking every blow and movement. It was a test of more than strength, it was a chance to see how well they'd been trained. Stoatpaw, mentored by Sablestar, had a clear edge in discipline and technique. And Fleapaw… He hadn't known what to expect from her. But she was trying. Fiercely. Both apprentices fought well, better than he might have given them credit for. There was even a flicker of amusement in his eyes when blood was drawn, a brief, satisfied smirk curling at his muzzle. They were learning.

But the match had run its course.

Coalstrike finally rose, silent as a shadow, and stepped forward. The soft thud of his paw pressing against Fleapaw's shoulder was more gesture than reprimand, just enough to ease her back. " A battle well fought. " he said, voice low and dry as stone. He looked to Stoatpaw then, unreadable for a moment before he gave a small nod. " You are both growing strong. "

It wasn't praise thrown lightly. And from Coalstrike, it was as close to pride as anyone might get.

—————————————————————————————————

I'll watch the battle until the dust is clear.

 

[Fleapaw]

-

The force of her tackle rippled like water—through Stoatpaw, and through her too. A strangled gasp escaped her clenched jaws and to her surprise, there was no resistance. Stoatpaw didn't push back, didn't squirm or nothin'. The buzz in Fleapaw's ears drowned out all the signals to stop. She didn't notice something was wrong.

A large paw wedged between them, shoving her back. Fleapaw stumbled a few steps, blinking up. Coalstrike? She sniffed, half-dazed—then his words clicked.

"You are both growing strong."

Her eyes widened, a starving dog drooling over a chicken bone. As meager as the praise was, it was still enough to excite her. "You really think so?" Fleapaw blurted, grin already spreading across her dirty muzzle. She couldn't remember him ever saying something like that to her before—not ever! He was usually all scowls and bristles. If Coalstrike said they did good, then that meant they really did!

Her head snapped toward Stoatpaw. "Did you hear that, Stoatpaw?!" She gave a little bounce, but the smile faded as quickly as it came.

When she didn't immediately answer, the ruddy apprentice crept forward, head tilting. "Stoatpaw? Stoat?" Her amber eyes roved over ruffled white fur—then froze on her friend's face. Blood streaked from her friend's mouth, red and stark against pale fur.

"Shit—you're bleeding!" Fleapaw cringed, the thrill from their fight and the praise they'd received shriveling away. "I didn't think I hit you that hard…" But obviously you did dumbass! A fresh rush of guilt writhed in her gut, stronger now, mingled with a potent rush of fear.

She pawed at Stoatpaw's cheek. "Hey, open your mouth, lemme see." Fleapaw craned to look at her face. What was bleeding? How bad was it? Did she knock out a tooth when they were fighting or something?

Higher and higher you chase it

FLEAPAW

9 MOONS
SHE/HER
- Undersized cinnamon solid with folded ears. She's thin but stubby with very messy fur.
"SPEECH" - crimson | 'THOUGHTS/EMPHASIS' - crimson

Fleapaw values family the most with survival at a close second. In conversations, she is blunt, fun-loving, and clever. She is guided by her desires which often leads her astray. Despite her abrasive personality, she cares deeply for those she loves and will do anything to protect them. Due to her experiences, Fleapaw is corrupt and has minimalistic, if any, morals. She does not care for the warrior code and its restraints. Neither does she believe in StarClan. Growing up in a kitten mill, being separated from her mother, and ending up on the streets have deeply affected her view of the world.

Its deep in your bones go and take it

 

[Stoatpaw Stoatpaw]

——————————————— Together, we'll make our way home ✦

Stoatpaw didn't move when Fleapaw was pushed off of her by a larger paw. She could see the looming shadow over them, even then she didn't want to face who it was. Shame burning her face. Her throat felt tight, wanting nothing more than to melt into her nest and have her sorry excuse of a fight be forgotten. Of course, as she shakily stood up, wincing at the dull ache in her shoulder, Fleapaw rounded into her view with wide eyes.

She wanted to look away, not meet the other's gaze, but Stoat could tell in Flea's rambling, barely readable speech, she was mortified too. The cinnamon apprentice pawed at her face, nudging where she had bit hard into the flesh of her mouth, making her wince in pain. With her own gentle paw, she pushed away Flea's from her face, rubbing at her mouth to meagerly wipe away the blood that leaked from her lips. "I'm fine, just.. Bit my cheek I think..." Her mouth watered at the awful taste; it made her nauseous, and she couldn't help but spit up the blood that had pooled in her mouth. It looked worse than it was; she didn't think anything major was hurt.

The apprentice was wobbly on her feet, Fleapaw hadn't held back in the slightest, and the ache of her shoulder and back and the sharper pain where teeth and claws were unsheathed made her wince at the idea she might be bleeding more. But even then, she looked to her friend. While her eyes betrayed her pain, there was no upset towards the other. Instead, Stoatpaw gently nudged her head against the other with a watery smile. "Good sparring, I'm proud of you, Flea." Not an ounce of anger towards Flea in every word, because she could never be upset at her best friend for her own poor fighting skills. "Maybe you should teach me some of your fighting skills so I can have a better chance next time we spar." She chuckled, dryly. It was only half a joke, she had no idea how Flea had gotten so good. Maybe Stoat was just falling behind...

Stoatpaw finally looked to the other cat, Coalstrike. She couldn't read what the expression was on his face, or if he had said anything, but she couldn't leave him unaddressed either. "Thank you." She spoke quietly, looking away from both cats again. Maybe he had said something that was worth thanking, but she was grateful at least he had put a stop to the spar. She should have stopped it earlier, but her pride got the better of her. Her stomach turned as shame burned louder in her chest. It was hard to push down the mortifying feeling of helplessness. She was meant to be training to be a warrior, and even now, she could barely hold herself in a fight.

Her gaze didn't meet Fleapaw's again, embarrassed to be perceived in the moment of weakness. "I. I'm going back to my nest if you need me. I need to rest for training tonight." Maybe she should have turned down the spar, or cut it short sooner, but now she needed to recuperate fast before her training tonight, or else it would get back to Sablestar how much she messed up. Her face scrunched up a little as she was walking away, trying not to limp from her sore shoulder, maybe finding some water to rinse her mouth would be wise, too.

——— While you were sleeping,

Everything changed at once. ———

• 
  Stoatpaw
  ✦—Shadowclan apprentice | 8 Moons
  ✦—She/Her
  ✦—"SPEECH", 'THOUGHTS', ATTACK, PAWSPEAK
  ✦—A slender white cat with faint lilac markings and blue eyes.
  #96d5f1/#50BBF0
  
  ⤷ Written by Phoenix ​

 

[Coalstrike Coalstrike]

Coalstrike looked down at Fleapaw and Stoatpaw, his expression unreadable save for the smallest nod, barely noticeable, unless you were watching for it. He knew Fleapaw would be. She was always watching. Always searching for proof she was being seen. Feisty. Fierce. Always burning too hot, too fast. She wanted everything at once, but he'd give her this: she had strength. Real fire beneath her pelt. Her training, though… That needed refining. Still, perhaps one day she'd make a true ShadowClan warrior.

When the focus shifted to Stoatpaw and her bleeding mouth, Coalstrike gave a low, amused snort. " Fret not. She's fine. A bit of rest should set her straight, hmm? " he said dryly, dipping his head once toward Stoatpaw as she walked off. Then his gaze slid back to Fleapaw, sharp and quiet, weighing her like a warrior might weigh a blade. A thin, fanged grin crept across his face.

" With the right training... " he murmured, voice like smoldering coals. " You could be a blaze through the forest, Fleapaw. I truly hope your mentor is giving their all to that cause. "

___________________ I DON'T FORGIVE, I DON'T FORGET ☆ A wound's a warning, a debt is a debt. ___________________

• "speech"
  

• 

• COALSTRIKE he/him, shadowclanner, sixty-six moons.
  ☆ a lh black cat dangerous amber eyes. has a mane around his head, is huge [ grandiose ]
  ☆ mentoring vanillapaw
  ☆ loyal to sable, despises thunderclan
  ☆ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking
  ☆ penned by lion ↛ lionharted on discord, feel free to dm for plots.

 

[Fleapaw]

-

Fleapaw's brows furrowed as her paw was brushed away. Her frown deepened, eyes flicking toward Coalstrike as he and Stoatpaw reassured her that everything was fine. She wasn't totally convinced—but what could she do? It was clear she'd gone overboard. She'd been too rough, and now maybe Stoatpaw was mad. The white apprentice didn't act like it, but something felt off. Fleapaw just couldn't put her paw on what.

"Yeah… sure?" She mumbled, eyes trailing after Stoatpaw as she went off to rest.

But the unease lingered—worms writhing in her gut. Stoatpaw said she was fine, but... what if she wasn't? Fleapaw knew herself. When she wasn't fine, she didn't go around saying it either. Tickpaw usually had to drag it out of her, but he always knew. Fleapaw thought she knew her friend just as well. So, what if Stoatpaw was mad and just couldn't say so?

She swallowed thickly, paws itching to follow—but Coalstrike's voice pulled her back. Her head snapped toward him, and for a moment, she just stared, slack-jawed at the expression on his face.

Was that… a smile? He could smile? She kind of just assumed his face was stuck or somethin'...

Fleapaw glanced around to check if anyone else had seen it, but it was just the two of them. Her eyes flicked back up, neck aching from how high she had to tilt her head—Fuck, he was tall. Could he like share a little of that with the less fortunate?

Her muscles ached, skin stinging where Stoatpaw's teeth had gotten her good, but her ears twitched, clinging to every word he said.

"You could be a blaze through the forest, Fleapaw."

Those words left her dazed. Did he… actually mean that? If it had been Marbleshine or some other soft bellied cat, she would've written it off as empty flattery. But Coalstrike didn't talk just to talk. He minced words to make no one happy. A flush crept up her chest to her cheeks, and despite the soreness in her spine, she stood a little straighter.

"I will be, just you wait." She huffed proudly. She'd been putting her all into her sessions with Jadethorn—and Froststorm. It was pretty exhausting, honestly, but Fleapaw wouldn't fall behind anymore. Jadethorn wanted her to pass the assessments on time, and she would. "Frost—er Jadethorn is! She's waaaay better a mentor than Possumgrin was. We train pretty much every day, and she really knows her stuff too." She caught herself just in time. That would've been hard to explain. No way anyone would believe she was getting lessons from a dead cat. He wasn't anything like Jadethorn, but he knew his stuff too.

Shifting on her paws, Fleapaw glanced in the direction Stoatpaw had gone. Rest sounded nice, but… Maybe Flea could soften her up with a gift. Just in case.

"I gonna go now, Coalstrike. I wanna check if Jadethorn's busy—but we should train sometime too! I wanna spar with you next time!" Before the tom could question her, Fleapaw was bounding off, a giddy smirk spread across her muzzle.

Higher and higher you chase it

FLEAPAW

9 MOONS
SHE/HER
- Undersized cinnamon solid with folded ears. She's thin but stubby with very messy fur.
"SPEECH" - crimson | 'THOUGHTS/EMPHASIS' - crimson

Fleapaw values family the most with survival at a close second. In conversations, she is blunt, fun-loving, and clever. She is guided by her desires which often leads her astray. Despite her abrasive personality, she cares deeply for those she loves and will do anything to protect them. Due to her experiences, Fleapaw is corrupt and has minimalistic, if any, morals. She does not care for the warrior code and its restraints. Neither does she believe in StarClan. Growing up in a kitten mill, being separated from her mother, and ending up on the streets have deeply affected her view of the world.

Its deep in your bones go and take it